She Calls Herself Maria
by Lovetta Dream
Summary: Story is going to be completely remodled. I will begin tonight though it won't be posted. A past Bella doesn't want Edward to know about. A past Bella barely understands. Bella is one half, Maria is the other. This story will deal with multiple personalities, depression, and many more emotions that will leave you wanting more. The revised version will have a different name.
1. Chapter 1

**BETA-ED by the amazing BeautifulyEnchanted... Enjoy**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Bella P.O.V_(point of view)_

You might not understand my story, It might just seem so stupid, but its the truth.

When I was ten, I was diagnosed with a multi personality disorder. By then it was too late. I was a murderer; angel by day, killer by night.

Who would have thought sweet innocent me would kill someone? My hits were random.I was smart and calculated. Who said you didn't learn anything by watching T.V. ? Now you may ask how could you a little girl take a life...? Its easy, I didn't. Maria did.

Yes, I said Maria. That is what she liked to call herself. You see, I didn't know I was a murderer until the virginal age of eight, immaculate to the world.

You see, Maria thought it would be funny to start making herself known with vivid memories. At first, I thought they were just nightmares until I woke up with blood splattered clothes. As the months went on, Maria thought it would be fun to come out to play during the day. She wreaked havoc from school to home.

Because of this, I was in trouble more times than I can count, and when questioned by my mother, I would tell her everything I knew, which was nothing.

Finally realizing something was wrong, my mother got me a therapist. Most time I would just blackout during the sessions so I don't really know what happened behind the therapist's closed doors.

Maria liked the attention so she just got worst.

One time I blacked out for so long, when I came to, three years had flown by and I was in an all white room strapped in bed. Later, I discovered I was in a faculty for insane people.

I was so afraid; Maria was trying to ruin my life. I remember screaming in my head and begging her to leave me be.

I guess she heard me because I remember her saying," I'm sorry".

It was like a wake up call. Maria did not show anymore...it was like she disappeared...well, that I know of.

It had taken two years to convince people I was normal again, but by then I had already spent five years of my life in that hell hole of a faculty.

My mother moved and got married to a guy named Phil, who she was always writing about in the paragraph letters she sent me. From how she talked about Phil, I had a feeling I never would really like him. I was right. When I met him he was telling jokes, trying to be the life of the party. The act was annoying and stupid.

My mother told Phil I was in a special boarding school where you stay for the whole year, including the summer. Which is stupid, but Phil bought it.

Living in Phoenix was the hardest thing to do. Most people knew me from elementary school as the girl who talked to herself. Its amazing how they remembered things I didn't even know about; as soon as I walked through the doors I was called a freak.

Rumors spread like wild flowers. Boys would ask me out, and after I said no, they would spread rumors about me. Many rumors I would really hate to repeat.

I was more developed than most girls and that caused a lot of unwanted attention. So let's just say I was unpopular.

Finally, I was at my wits end. It was only so many times I was pushed down before I even got the chance to stand up. I thought the world would be a better place without me.

Before you ask, I didn't try to commit suicide. Well, I did try. I had the blade in my hand and I was about to press down, but my mom called me, asking if she could come into the bathroom.

"Sure", I yelled back. It wasn't until the door started opening I noticed I still had the blade in my hand.

In my haste to hide the blade, I cut myself.

Turning around to throw the blade away, I came face to face with mother dearest. Her face ashen as she computed what she just saw.


	2. Chapter 2

**BETA-ED by the amazing BeautifulyEnchanted... Enjoy**

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><p>Chapter 2... Warning profanity...<p>

Bella P.O.V(point of view)

"Bella, why?" my mother asked.

I continued to stare my pale face. There I stood, paralyzed. Not able to move or talk. I stood watching as her eyes turned accusing. She glared at me and what she did next shocked me. She slapped me, with her hand on my face. It stung and tear gathered in my eyes threatening to spill. " Bella, I will not have this shit in my household. I'm sending you to Charlie," she yelled at me then turned and stormed out of the room. I sat there processing what she said.

"Charlie, Charlie ... She's sending you away.

"Let me out. That bitch doesn't know what shit is. Let me show her," Maria said. She was right. This shit could have been worse. I was surprised to find myself in a position where I agreed with Maria. Wait, Maria? Oh God, not again.

I sat rocking back and forth and sobbing. Not again ran as a never ending loop in the background of my head.

"Are you fucking crying? I come to visit you and I don't even get a damn 'hi'? You know time is a precious thing to waste so you better go and pack your bags," Maria said in her bitchy 'I know everything' voice missed so much. Note the sarcasm.

So that is how Maria and I found ourselves on a plane to Seattle. "To live with a rapist for all we know," Maria butted in.

So here we are seated in R10. Which was stupid I because there were only about fifty people on the plane and we were all huddled together; the man to my left was super annoying. He was bald and had personal hygiene problems.

"He smells like a shit smoothe," Maria stated bluntly scaring the hell out of me. She has been doing that a lot lately, commenting on things at random. Its like she wants me to notice her presence. I refuse to give her power over me so I ignore her. I keep wondering, why is she there and what does she want, but I will be damned if I talk to the person who ruined my life. I just want her gone... but how?

Let's go back a little...When I first got on the plane, I waited and waited for someone to claim the seat beside me; there were only four minutes left until take-off, so I sat in the seat by the window which, by the way, wasn't my seat, but no one was sitting there. ''First come first serve. Thats my motto,'' butts in Maria. So, anyway , there I am listening to The Band Perry on my ipod, totally blissed and peaceful, when some asshole snatches my earphones out of my ears. Then that same ass proceeded to yell at me for no apparent reason.

He was like, "young lady who do you think you are?" and ending with how he should report me to the pilot.

Turns out I was sitting in his seat, but he didn't have to be so rude. Keep in mind I offered to give him the seat, but he said and I quote, " NO! You keep it. I get window sick anyway".

Why did he waste my time with his annoying sermon? People like him irritate me, so to not say anything rude, I turned around and turned the volume of my music up. I closed my eyes and next thing I know he's poking me telling me to turning down my music. I did. Thirty minutes later, he's poking me again asking me why I wasnt looking out the window if I wanted to sit by it so bad. Again I asked do you want to switch seats.

"NO, NOOOO", he replied. He didn't mess with me again until after lunch. I guess thats when he decided to make his presence known again.

"Do you want that?" he asked, pointing to the muck they were serving us.

"Nope", I answered. I knew he wanted it, but he wasn't asking so I wasn't offering.

Some trash lady named Lauren came by and grabbed my tray without saying anything. The man next to me started fussing about how wasteful I was, but I shut him up quickly by saying, "no one asked for it."

His face turned red then purple before he finally gave up. "Great because if he said anything else, I was going to punch him,'' said Maria with anger clearly evident in her voice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Special thanks to drumroll please...**

MizzD15

JoanFuckingJett

BeautyCannotBeMeasured

Izzymarie

Bird That Flies At Dawn

**You guys are the one who made me want to better my writing. Please feel free to complain. BETA-ED by the amazing BeautifulyEnchanted... Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter Three<span>

It's a four hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks, Washington. Flying doesn't bother me, but the bald man snoring directly into my ear and cuddling my arm in the seat beside me sure did. To tell you the truth, I liked him better unconscious.

Finally the plane landed; I shoved him off of my arm, grabbed my bags ,and stumbled my way to Charlie. He grabbed my bags and placed them in the cruiser (I only had a few of them). It all fit easily into the trunk of the cruiser.

"He's a cop!" complained Maria. She had been so quiet, lately, I had forgotten she was there.  
>Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole moving in thing considering I hadn't talked to him since I was a little girl. He seemed genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.<p>

I knew Charlie was more than a little confused by my decision to move in with him. I mean, who goes to private school only to switch to public school in the middle of her last two years of high school? It was sure to be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us were talkative and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. Being locked away made me miss learning normal social skills.

"It's good to see you, Bells," he said, smiling. What a lie! I haven't seen him since before I was locked up and that was years ago. "You haven't changed much. How's Renée?" At least he was trying to make me feel comfortable by not demanding why I haven't sent him a letter.

"Mom's fine. It's good to see you too." I replied, uninterested.

"I found a good car for you, really cheap," he announced when we were strapped in.

"What kind of car?" I was suspicious of the way he said "good car for you" as opposed to just "good car."

"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."

"Where did you find it?"

"Billy Black from down at La Push."

La Push is the tiny Indian reservation on the coast.

"He and I are fishing buddies, anyway. He's in a wheelchair now," Charlie continued when I didn't respond, "so he can't drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap."

"Okay, Thanks," I could see from his change of expression that this was the answer he was hoping I would say, but not actually expecting.

"How cheap is cheap?" Maria asked in my head.

"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.

We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much it for Conversation. Maria and I stared out the windows in silence. " Green! I love green," Maria stated like a little child on Christmas morning. It was beautiful, of course; I couldn't deny that. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves. It was too green only a bright cheerful yellow would bring me out of the funk I have felt lately.

Eventually we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the small, two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early months of their marriage. There, parked on the street in front of the house that never changed, was my new truck. It was a faded greenish-blue color, with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I loved it and green was my least favorite color.

I didn't know if it would run, but I could see myself in it. Plus, it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged .''The kind you see at the scene of an accident, paint unscathed, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed,'' Maria said in an excited voice as if she was watching it happen in her head; well ours.

"Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!" Now my horrific day tomorrow would be just that much less dreadful.

"I'm glad you like it," Charlie said gruffly.

It took only one trip to get all my stuff upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar; it felt as though it had haunted me since I was born. The wooden floor, the bright white walls, the peaked ceiling, if it wasn't for the yellowed lace curtains around the window, I would be at home; in the ''year round school''. The only changes Charlie had ever made were switching the crib for a bed and adding a desk as I grew.

The desk now held a second hand laptop, with the phone line for the modem stapled along the floor to the nearest phone jack, its not like I would use it. The rocking chair from my baby days was still in the corner.  
>There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie and Maria. I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact that lately I had been referring to Maria as if she were a human being and not a voice in my head that can take over my body every now and then.<p>

One of the best things about Charlie was he doesn't hover. He left me alone to unpack and get settled. It was nice to be alone ( not as alone as one would hope), not to have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape.

I wasn't in the mood to go on a real crying jag. I would save that for bedtime when I would have to think about the coming morning.

Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven — now fifty-nine — students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior class alone back home. All of the kids here had grown up together — their grandparents had been toddlers together.

I would be the new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak. Maybe, if I looked like a girl from Phoenix should, I could work this to my advantage. But physically, I'd never fit in anywhere. I should be tan, sporty, blond — a volleyball player, or a cheerleader, perhaps — all the things that go with living in the valley of the sun. Instead, I was pale-skinned, without even the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, because the sun doesn't shine in the corner of my box. I had always been slender and weak; the only muscle I worked was my brain, reading numerous books.

Anyway, I didn't have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating myself.

When I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, I took my bag of bathroom necessities and went to the communal bathroom to clean myself up after the day of travel. I looked at my face in the mirror as I brushed through my tangled, damp hair. Maybe it was the light, but already I looked sallower, unhealthy. My skin could be pretty — it was very clear, almost translucent-looking — but it all depended on color. I had no color here. Facing my death-like reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn't just physically that I'd never fit in. What were my chances here? Never knowing when Maria would come out was painful.

I didn't relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn't relate well to people. Especially my mother who I hated without really knowing why. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain that would explain Maria. But the cause didn't matter. All that mattered was the effect. And tomorrow would be just the beginning of my watered down hell.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Special thanks to drumroll please...**

MizzD15

JoanFuckingJett

BeautyCannotBeMeasured

Izzymarie

Bird That Flies At Dawn

**You guys are the one who made me want to better my writing. Please feel free to complain. BETA-ED by the amazing BeautifulyEnchanted... Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter 4...<p>

I didn't sleep well that night, even after I was done crying. The constant chatter of Maria never ended. She was excited and it showed te way she rambled on and on, I could only guess she was talking about school because now and then I heard the word school. Whenever Maria is excited I cant help but wonder how many years of life has she lived thru, for all I know she could be six. All nigh i hoped the wind across the roof wouldn't fade into the background, if it did stop I wouldnt be able to stop myself from questioning Maria's mindless thoughts. I couldn't fall asleep until after midnight, when Maria finally settled into what I guess to be sleep.

Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning, and I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on Maria. You could never see the sky here; it was like a cage and with Maria and I being locked up before we felt confined but really secretly at home.

Breakfast with Charlie was a quite an awkward event. He wished me good luck at school. I thanked him. He left. The end. His hopes were surely wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me. I sat at the old square oak table in one of the three unmatching chairs and examined his small kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor."This place need a make over," Maria sneered as if the house was beneath a women of her standards. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room was a row of pictures. First a wedding picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, taken by a helpful nurse, followed by the procession of my school pictures up to fifth grade. Those were embarrassing to look at it made me remember the very thing I was trying to forget. I would have to see what I could do to get Charlie to put them somewhere else, at least while I was living here.

I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. I donned my red pea coat — which had the feel of a warm fleece cover — and headed out into the rain.

It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as I reached for the house key that was always hidden under the eaves by the door, and locked up. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. They were bright pink which I find disgusting. I missed the normal crunch of gravel as I walked. I couldn't pause and admire my truck again as I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that loved to attack my hair with curls only to frizz when my hair finally became fully dry.

Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. The engine started quickly, to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a plus that I hadn't expected.

Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. Where was the feel of the institution? I wondered. Where were the chain-link fences, the metal detectors?

I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading front office. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot. I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a purple t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed considering the thermal and the vest I was modeling on top of two t-shirts; one red and on blue. Its a weird combo but that's how I liked it.

The red-haired woman looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Isabella Swan," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last. A wiz among wiz's, that's me.

"You must be considering I havent seen you before," she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter to show me.

She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like Charlie, that I would like it here in Forks. " I cant wait to see how you ruin your day," laughs Maria.

When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention to me. Although they werent flashy they didnt sound like a cat being run over by a cement mixer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Special thanks to drumroll please...**

MizzD15

JoanFuckingJett

BeautyCannotBeMeasured

Izzymarie

Bird That Flies At Dawn

**You guys are the one who made me want to better my writing. Please feel free to complain. BETA-ED by the amazing BeautifulyEnchanted... Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 5...<p>

I looked at the map in our truck, trying to memorize it now. Hopefully I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day; that smartass Maria wasn't going to help.

I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and sucked in a huge breath. I can do this, I lied to myself. Nobody was going to bite me and they really couldn't do anything I haven't seen before. I mean, do you think they had a bloodthirsty side to them like Maria? I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers.

"I hate walking in crowds," moaned Maria in a bland voice. I think she has finally realized I will not answer back. Good, I was always told not to speak to strangers. Especially when random people would come to me saying words of thanks. Now that I think about it, maybe Maria wasn't such a bad person, I mean, why else would people thank her?

"That's what I have been trying to say,'' Maria growled.

She was ignored.

My plain black cotton jacket didn't stick out.

"As expected," Maria stated.

Once I got around the cafeteria, building four was easy to spot. A large black "4" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried holding my breath as I followed two unisex rain coats through the door.

The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-colored blonde, the other also pale, with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldn't be a standout here.

I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, light-skinned woman with black hair and gray streaks, whose desk had a nameplate identifying her. She gawked at me when she saw my name — not an encouraging response — and of course I flushed tomato red. But at least she sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I kept my eyes down on the tarnished math three book.

When the bell rang, a gangly boy with skin problems and black hair leaned across the aisle to talk to me."You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type.

"Bella," I corrected. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me.

"Where's your next class?" he asked.

I had to check in my bag. "Um, Chorus, in building six."

There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes so I settled for looking down.

"I'm headed toward building two, I could show you the way…I'm Eric," he added when I didn't answer.

"Definitely overly helpful,'' Maria laughed.

I smiled tentatively, trying not to giggle. "Thanks."

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn't getting paranoid. I probably was.

"So, this is a lot different from Phoenix, huh?" he asked.

"Yep."

"It doesn't rain much there, does it?"

"Three or four times a year."

"Wow, what must that be like?" he wondered.

"Sunny," I told him.

"You don't look very tan."

"My mother is part vampire."

He studied my face apprehensively and I sighed. What was he thinking about so hard? It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm.

"Oh please,'' you know who snorted.

We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked. "Well, good luck," he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful.

I smiled at him vaguely and went inside.

The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My spanish teacher, Mr. Martin, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat.

After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot. At least I never needed the map.

One girl sat next to me in both Chorus and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my five feet four inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. She reminded me of Fran from ''The Nanny''. I couldn't remember her name, so I smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and classes. I didn't try to keep up.

We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me. The boy from Math, Eric, waved at me from across the room.

It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They weren't gawking at me, unlike most of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these things that caught, and held, my attention.

They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and shoulder length honey blond honey. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked hot in a smart young adult way. Quite simply they look college material.

The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque. She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, the kind that made every girl around her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixielike, thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction. One glance and I couldn't help be think she was the baby of the family.

They all had similarities that couldn't be ignored. Every one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. Paler than me, the vamp. They all had very dark eyes despite the range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes — purplish, bruiselike shadows. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, angular.

But all this is not why I couldn't look away.


	6. Chapter 6

**Special thanks to drumroll please...**

MizzD15

JoanFuckingJett

BeautyCannotBeMeasured

Izzymarie

Bird That Flies At Dawn

**You guys are the one who made me want to better my writing. Please feel free to complain. Not yet BETA-ED by the amazing BeautifulyEnchanted... Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter-?<span>**

Not even Maria shouting Oh yeah- in my mind.

I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful maybe the perfect blond girl, or the bronze-haired boy. They were all looking away; away from each other, away from the other students, away from anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the small girl rose with her tray with an unopened soda, unbitten apple. I could hear Maria in the back of my mind mummering as the pixie walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed at her little dancer's step, till she dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought possible. Nice shoes- Maria whispered loud enough for me to hear. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging. Not even blinking or watching their little performer dance away.

"Ella, Bellla, BELLA," this chick who last name is Fleenor. She and I have honors american literature together. I cant really remember her first name but boy does her last name stand out. "Bella," I look at her waiting for her to continue," Its not nice to stare at people." What is this... Pre-K- Maria exclaimed."But if you want to know, that's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said this under her breath. Suddenly he looked at her, the thinner one, the boyish one, the youngest, perhaps. He looked at my neighbor scanning her for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered to mine. What nice eyes- whimpered Maria. He looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once.

Although Maria has no control of my body I could feel her emotions like a murderous storm. She was excited. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest — it was as if she had called his name, and he'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer. My neighbor giggled in embarrassment, looking at the table and hiding her face with her long gray hair which she will swear is blond but that's another story. I glanced sideways at the beautiful boy afraid if I looked fully at him my bloomers wouldn't survive Maria, he was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. Who eats bagels for lunch?- Maria and I wondered. His mouth was moving very quickly, but perfect lips barely opening. His hair was longish but not in a girly way. It was more of a shoulder length untamed beast look. The other three at his table still looked away, and yet I felt he was speaking quietly to them. Do I look that way when I talk to Maria? Maybe he had his own demon he needed to get rid of.

Strange, unpopular names, I thought. The kinds of names grandparents had. But maybe that was in vogue here — small town names? I finally remembered that my neighbor was called Jessica, a perfectly common name. There were two girls named Jessica in my History class back home. "They are… very nice-looking." I struggled with the conspicuous understatement know darn well that they were panty drop gorgeous. "Yes!" Jessica agreed with another giggle. "They're all together though — Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they live together." Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip. Anything could start gossip in Phoenix, even things from the past. There is always someone out there to tear you down. That's why you have to keep your walls up- Maria whispered.

"Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related…" "Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins — the blondes — and they're foster children."

"They look a little old for foster children."

"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

"That's really kind of nice — for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything."

"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that she didn't like the doctor and his wife for some reason. With the glances she was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. I bet she wished to be a Cullen deep down. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though," she added, as if that lessened their kindness. Throughout all this conversation, my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. They continued to look at the walls and not eat. Which is werid because the jock looked like he need to eat all the time to keep up that body mass. Maybe they were on a diet.

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked.

"No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

I felt a surge of pity, and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. Relief that I wasn't the only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard.

As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" I asked. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, and he was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other students had today — he had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him. I wonder if he's gay." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he'd turned her down.

I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him again. His face was turned away, but I thought his cheek appeared lifted, as if he were smiling, too. After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They all were noticeably graceful — even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn't look at me again. I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone. I was anxious not to be late for class on my first day. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me that her name was Kelly, had Human Anatomy with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence. She was shy, too. When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbor. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, I recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single open seat.

As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. Just as I passed, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face — it was hostile, furious. I looked away quickly, shocked, going red again. I stumbled over a book in the walkway and had to catch myself on the edge of a table. The girl sitting there giggled laughing how the new girl almost fell head over heels for the one and only greek god of the school.

I'd noticed that his eyes were black — coal black. His lips were and red tint and he had snake bites. His lips looked swollen like he just got it pierced. Ms. Sampson signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about introductions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, she had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by him, bewildered by the antagonistic stare he'd given me. I didn't look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It smelled like strawberries, the scent of my favorite shampoo. It seemed an innocent enough odor. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher.

Unfortunately the lecture was on how anabolic steroids cause testicles to shrink, something I'd rather not study. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down for fear of seeing a cartoon penis the first day of school. Well first day for me anyway.

I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally through the screen of my hair at the strange boy next to me. During the whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under his pale skin. This, too, he never relaxed. Sitting next to him made my stitches burn. He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. He wasn't nearly as slight as he'd looked next to his burly brother. The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for his tight fist to loosen or maybe even the constant burn begging to be scratched? Throughout class he continued to sit so still it looked like he wasn't breathing. What was wrong with him? Was this his normal behavior? I questioned my judgment on Jessica's bitterness at lunch today. Maybe she was not as resentful as I'd thought.

It couldn't have anything to do with me. He didn't know me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Special thanks to drumroll please...**

JoanFuckingJett

Izzymarie

Bird That Flies At Dawn

Matthias Stormcrow

JustcallmeRiley

**Your guys reviews are what made me want to better my writing. Please feel free to complain. Not yet BETA-ED by the amazing BeautifulyEnchanted... Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>He was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from him, shrinking against my chair, the phrase if looks could kill suddenly ran through my mind. My arm wouldnt stop burning. I bearly realized I was scratching. I felt like I was staring in the eyes of a predator.<br>At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose — he was much taller than I'd thought — his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat. I looked down only to see blood.  
>I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him, did he see? -Either way he was mean- growled Maria. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me,( Maria was right) for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency. About the only one I have that can be considered somewhat normal. the ablity that produce tears is the ability to know you arent a robot and that you alive.<br>"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" a male voice asked.  
>I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully jelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. How long do you think it toke him to do that to his head asked maria.<br>"Bella," I corrected him, with a smile.  
>"I'm Mike."<br>"Hi, Mike."  
>"Do you need any help finding your next class?"<br>"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."  
>"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small.<br>We walked to class together; he was a chatterer — he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he was ten, so he thought he knew how I felt about the sun. You didn't get much sun in Sunny Meadows, which is false advertising. Mike was the nicest person I'd met today and we had lunch together.-everyone eats at the same time, smart. - enquired Maria.  
>But as we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."<br>I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that wasn't Edward Cullen's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb.  
>"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?" I asked artlessly.<br>"Yes," he said. "He looked like he was in pain or something."  
>"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to him."<br>"He's a weird guy." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."  
>He'd flirt with anyone- complained Maria. I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring. But it wasn't enough to ease my irritation considering, i just realized what Maria said.<br>The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress down for today's class. At home, only two years of P.E. was required. Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. Forks was literally my personal hell on Earth but with rain.I would think hell was all fire- Maria informed me.  
>I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering , just now, I have never played any sport before, including volleyball.I felt faintly nauseated.<br>The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder. I wrapped my arms around myself.  
>When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out.<br>There stood Edward,in his glorious form- maria interjected. I recognized again that animalistic bronze hair. He didn't seem to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to become free.  
>He was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from fifth period human anatomy to another time — any other time.<br>I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered that room. The look on his face must have been about another aggravation entirely. Maybe he lost his phone or he was having a fight with his parents. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to stuff happen- said Maria.  
>The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gushed through the room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face. The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. But Edward Cullen's back stiffened, and he turned slowly to stare at me , his face pale, as if he was afraid of me. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. He knew. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.<br>"Never mind, then," he said hastily in a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And he turned on his heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door.  
>I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip.<br>"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked maternally.  
>"Fine," I lied, my voice weak. She didn't look convinced.<br>When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly what will i do when Charlie finds out? Surely Edward will tell! This could have token forever to ponder but soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. I headed back to Charlie's house, fighting tears the entire way there. Where am I supposed to go?


	8. Chapter 8

**I have been overly sick this last month. Nothing serious, but bad enough i shouldnt have whet to school. Now all of my friends are sick. Sorry, i just wanted to rant.**

**Special thanks to drumroll please...**

JoanFuckingJett

Izzymarie

Bird That Flies At Dawn

Matthias Stormcrow

JustcallmeRiley

**Your guys reviews are what made me want to better my writing. Please feel free to complain. Not yet BETA-ED by the amazing BeautifulyEnchanted... Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>The next day could be described by three adjectives: Better, easier, and worse. It was better because it wasn't raining yet. It was easier because I knew what to expect of my day especially Mikes flirting. People didn't look at me quite as much as they had yesterday. I sat with a big group at lunch that included Mike, Eric, Jessica, and several other people whose names and faces I still didnt remembered. I began to feel like I was treading water, instead of drowning in it. It was worse because I was tired; I still couldn't sleep with the wind echoing around the house and it didn't help that I was afraid Edward would show up and Charlie finding out about the cut on my wrist. It was worse because called on me in Math 3 when my hand wasn't raised and I had the wrong answer. It was worse because I had to play volleyball, and the one time I didn't cringe out of the way of the ball, I hit my teammate in the head with it. And it was worse because Edward Cullen wasn't in school at all. All morning I was dreading lunch, fearing his bizarre glares. Part of me wanted to confront him and demand to know what his problem was while part of me already knew the answer. I even imagined what I would say. But I knew myself too well to think I would really have the guts to do actually say anything. Unlike Maria who was quite angry about being in a situation she couldn't control. When I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica I saw that his four sibling sitting together at the same table, but where is Edward? Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table. Jessica seemed elated by the attention, and her friends quickly joined us. But as I tried to listen to their easy chatter, I was terribly uncomfortable, waiting nervously for the moment he would arrive. I hoped that he would simply ignore me when he came, and prove my suspicions false. He didn't come, and as time passed I grew more and more tense. Sure he was coming, right? I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, he still hadn't showed. Mike, who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side to class. I held my breath at the door, but Edward Cullen wasn't there, either. I exhaled and went to my seat. Mike followed, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach. He lingered by my desk till the bell rang. Then he smiled at and tripped on his ways to his seat. It looked like I was going to have to do something about Mike, and it wouldn't be easy. In a town like this, where everyone lived on top of everyone else, diplomacy was essential. I had never been enormously tactful; I had no practice dealing with overly friendly boys .He reminded me of . Weird name i know but he was my therapist. He was always overly cheerful as if he was happy to see every molecule in the world. I was relieved that I had the desk to myself, that Edward was absent. I told myself that repeatedly. But I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason he wasn't there. It was impossible. And yet I couldn't stop worrying that it was true. When the school day was finally done, and the blush was fading out of my cheeks from the volleyball incident, I changed quickly back into my jeans and black sweater. I hurried from the girls' locker room, pleased to find that I had successfully evaded my retriever friend for the moment. I walked swiftly out to the parking lot. It was crowded now with fleeing students. I got in my truck and dug through my bag to make sure I had all of my books. With all this lying in bed awake at nite I might as well study. Last night I'd discovered that Charlie couldn't cook much besides fried eggs and Im allergic to bacon I requested that I be assigned kitchen duty for the duration of my stay. He was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall. I also found out that he had no food in the house. So I had my shopping list and the cash from the jar in the cupboard labeled FOOD MONEY, and I was on my way to the Piggy Wiggy. I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring the heads that turned in my direction, and backed carefully into a place in the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot. As I waited, trying to pretend that the earsplitting rumble was coming from someone else's car, I saw the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car. It was the shiny new Volvo. Of course. I hadn't noticed their clothes before — I'd been too mesmerized by their faces. Now that I looked, it was obvious that they were all dressed exceptionally well; simply, but in clothes that subtly hinted at designer origins. With their remarkable good looks, the style with which they carried themselves, they could have worn dishrags and pulled it off. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn't look as if it bought them any acceptance here. No, I didn't fully believe that. The isolation must be their desire; I couldn't imagine any door that wouldn't be opened by that degree of beauty.<p>

They looked at my noisy truck as I passed them, just like everyone else. I kept my eyes straight forward and was relieved when I finally was free of the school grounds.

The store was not far from the school, just a few streets south, off the highway. It was nice to be inside the supermarket; it felt normal. I did the shopping at home, and I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly. The store was big enough inside that I couldn't hear the tapping of the rain on the roof to remind me where I was. When I got home, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them in wherever I could find an open space. I hoped Charlie wouldn't mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in marinade and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge. When I was finished with that, I took my book bag upstairs. Before starting my homework, I changed into a pair of dry sweats, pulled my damp hair up into a pony-tail, and checked my e-mail for the first time. I had three messages. "Bella," my mom wrote… Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you already? Phil says hi. Mom. "What bull",Maria growed. I sighed in agreement because Maria was right . How can a mother cry at her childs funeral when she hated kids? The next was from this morning. Isabella, If I haven't heard from you by 5:30 p.m. today I'm calling Charlie. Mom, Hello. Got to go. Talk to you later. Bella. I didn't feel the need to converse with her like we were best buds. As far as I remember I was just a tenant. She made sure to not get close to me. I was wondering if i was too vague when Charlie came home. I'd lost track of the time, and had to hurry downstairs to take the potatoes out and put the steak in to broil. "Bella?" my father called out when he heard me on the stairs. "Who else?", thought Maria. "Hey, Dad, welcome home." "Thanks." He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I bustled about the kitchen. As far as I was aware, he'd never shot the gun on the job but he kept it ready. I appreciated the blunt trust Charlie was giving me like he knew I was old enough to not accidentally shot myself. "Unlike Renee", seethed Maria.


End file.
